


The Penultimate Problem

by BarbaraKaterina



Series: FrostIron Bingo '19 [4]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sherlock Holmes, FrostIron Bingo 2019, M/M, POV Outsider, Period-Typical Homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-10-05 12:30:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20488934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarbaraKaterina/pseuds/BarbaraKaterina
Summary: The famous detective Mr. Anthony Stark meets an adversary unlike any before in one Mr. Loki Liesmith.





	1. Square G5: AU: Sherlock Holmes

**Author's Note:**

> FrostIron Bingo square G5: AU: Sherlock Holmes 
> 
> This chapter is a very close paraphrasing of Doyle’s “The Final Problem”, so it will work much better if you know that story (go read it, it’s only 7k words, avaliable on wikisource, and one of the most famous short stories ever). There are full on, not that short quotes from it in this chapter, including, I should say, some of the shippiest bits.
> 
> The main inspiration for this is obviously the Holmes AU prompt and Sir Arthur himself, but I feel like I should acknowledge that probably, Stars’ amazing story Fractals of a Criminal Mind, one of my favourite FrostIron stories of all time, was also there in the background as additional inspiration.
> 
> Also, writing this fic got me reading ACD fanfics and gave me an inspiration for an ACD story, because another fandom is just what I needed.

To: General Thadeuss Ross

Dear Sir,

It is not an easy task you have set before me. I have been giving you reports of the activities of my friend Mr. Anthony Stark for some time, from first mentioning the extraordinary way he had solved the problem of the study in scarlet. You knew, of course, all about the details of the naval treaty we have helped secure at your request. Now you charge me with writing up the details of my very last cooperation with Mr. Stark, the one that had led to his death.

I understand I am the only one who can shed some light on this, since all the other participants have passed away, but it does not make it any easier to write.

You know that ever since your decision to have me stationed abroad most of the year, Mr. Stark and I have been seeing less of each other. We corresponded occasionally, and I knew he had been working in the Continent for some time, but that was all. It was with some surprise, therefore, that I saw him walk into my London office upon the evening of April 24th.

Stark, as you know from my reports, can go for long periods without sleep or much food, and it does not make him any less efficient at his job. Now, however, he looked pale and thin.

"Yes, I have been using myself up rather too freely," he remarked, in answer to my look rather than to my words; "I have been a little pressed of late. Have you any objection to my closing your shutters?"

I frowned at him. “You are afraid of being seen here?” I asked him dubiously.

“No,” he said with an ironic smile, “I am afraid of air-guns.”

I could only stare at him.

He sighed, and fairly collapsed into the chair opposite my desk – after, I might say, closing the shutters. “You know me well enough, Rhodes,” he said, “to know I’m not exactly the careful sort. But sometimes, it would be sheer stupidity not to see the danger one is in. By the way, you wouldn’t mind if I left through the window when I go, would you?”

“Stark,” I said, becoming more exasperated by the minute, “explain yourself.”

Instead, he said abruptly: “Come with me to the Continent, for a week or so.”

Given that I had only recently returned to London from my station, I frowned at that. “Where?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Anywhere. It’s all the same to me.”

I gave him a look that indicated plainly I would not as much as move an inch until he explained himself.

He smiled his sardonic smile once more and said: “You have probably never heard of Loki Liesmith in connection with any criminal activity, have you?”

“Not with the exception of...,” I confirmed, somewhat shocked, because of the notoriety that man boats for, among other reasons, precisely that one crime he seems to always skirt around. I knew that would not be what my friend was interested in, since as you know, he is not particularly concerned with morality in the usual sense of the word. But surely, if one was a serious criminal, one would take care not to flaunt such of their inclinations that were against the law? Surly that could only draw the dangerous attention of the police?

“Yes,” Stark muttered, “that’s the genius. He is everywhere and everyone knows him, and yet not a shade of accusation of anything truly criminal,” and here I hope, sir, you will forgive my late friend his unusual opinion – as you know, he had unusual opinions on many things, “ever stains him. In Britain at least, that is; I have heard that in his native Sweden, his reputation was not quite so sterling, and that is, presumably, why he changed his name when coming here. I tell you, however, that he is a criminal mastermind. If I could beat this one man, Rhodes – well, that would be the peak of my career, really, and nothing else would ever as much as come close.”

I was still feeling rather sceptical, and so I asked: “What has he done, then?”

“Rather ask me what he has not! He is from a very good family, and is a genius in his own right, particularly talented in physics I gather – I have read some of his treatises.”

“What, Loki Liesmith?” I asked with some shock, because that is not something you hear about a notorious society man every day.

“Him exactly. He tried his career at Oxford for a while, and while he was popular among students, his tendency to the kind of notoriety he is known for now was what eventually saw him chased out of that place. So, as far as public information goes, that was when he moved to London and began his life of genteel boredom.”

“But you have discovered differently?” I asked, swept into he story in spite of myself.

“I’ve been aware that there was somebody behind much of London crime for years, Rhodes. Years. Do you know how frustrating it is for me to be unable to figure something out for that long? But finally I cracked it, and it is him. Forgeries, robberies, murders – there is everything. He hardly does anything himself, you understand, he mostly plans – but how he plans! I have never encountered such genius in my whole career. His agents are sometimes caught, and then he is loyal enough to provide money for bail and for defence. But he himself remains safe.

“I worked on this for months – months, Rhodes! Again, you know what that means with me – and was beginning to feel it was hopeless, that I would never catch him. I was forced to confess that I had at last met an antagonist who was my intellectual equal. My horror at his crimes was lost in my admiration at his skill. But then, wonder of wonders, he made a mistake! And suddenly I had a way in. I took it, naturally, and now it stands thus: on Monday, there will be enough evidence to send him and all his closest co-conspirators tot he gallows.”

“That’s great then,” I said, suspecting a catch.

“It would be, if I could have done it without him knowing. Alas, as much as it pains me to admit it, I am not half good enough for that. He knew about me every step of the way, tried to undercut me and I had to invent new manoeuvres to undercut him in turn. Oh, it was thrilling, Rhodes, so thrilling! Especially so because, even though just narrowly, I was finally winning.

“And then, this morning, the doors to my study opened and in walked – no other than Loki Liesmith, in all his tall, slim, green-eyed glory. The eyes, truly, are so much more intense in private than the pictures in the papers could ever contain. He was clean-shaven, pale, and he stood tall and calm even when, as he was then, in enemy territory.

“‘You shouldn’t play with your gun in your dressing-gown, Mr. Stark,’ was the first thing he said to me, a smirk playing on his lips.

“I pulled the gun out and put it on the table, just so save myself any further possible double entendres. ‘Take a chair,’ I said. ‘I can spare you five minutes if you have anything to say.'

"'All that I have to say has already crossed your mind,' said he.

"'Then possibly my answer has crossed yours,' I replied.

"'You stand fast?' He asked.

"'Absolutely,' I said.

“‘I find myself placed in such a position through your continual persecution that I am in positive danger of losing my liberty,’ he said in a tone of disapproval, of all things. ‘The situation is becoming an impossible one.'

"'Have you any suggestion to make?' I asked.

"'You must drop it, Mr. Stark,' he said firmly, almost if a bit entreatingly. 'You really must, you know.'

"'After Monday,' said I.

"'Tut, tut,' said he. 'I am quite sure that a man of your intelligence will see that there can be but one outcome to this affair. It is necessary that you should withdraw. You have worked things in such a fashion that we have only one resource. It has been an intellectual treat to me to see the way in which you have grappled with this affair, and I say, unaffectedly, that it would be a grief to me to be forced to take any extreme measure. You smile, sir, but I assure you that it really would.'

"'Danger is part of my trade,' I remarked.

"'That is not danger,' said he. 'It is inevitable destruction. You must stand clear, Mr. Stark, or be trodden under foot.'

“And it was the strangest thing, Rhodes, but he truly did sound wholly sincere in that moment.” Here he paused, but then seemed to gather himself and continued: “Well, in any case, I told him I was not interested in listening to him any longer, and he left. For the rest of the day, little incidents have been befalling me – a brick almost falling on my head, a carriage almost running me over – which make me quite certain that he is determined to take the one course of action he had warned me against. So I am here now, asking for your company at the Continent. The police can make the arrest without me, and the best thing I can do for my safety is just disappear for a while.”

Under the circumstances, I couldn’t but agree to go.

We set a meeting on the Continental train, involving some impressive subterfuge, and Stark still arrived in disguise. He had a reason for it, as he pointed out Liesmith to me at the station, trying to catch the train as it was departing. Stark then promptly deduced that he would engage a special, and we changed our plans, tarrying on the way and going, instead of Paris, to Brussels and then to Switzerland.

The Monday of the arrests came, and Stark got a wire telling him Liesmith had escaped. He didn’t seem surprised. He simply nodded grimly, and we continued on our way to the mountains, where we spent a week taking in the beauty.

Stark spoke several times of being happy with his detective career as it stood, and that eliminating Liesmith’s gang was truly a crown jewel, and that he could feel he had not worked in vain.

As you can imagine, such words disturbed me and I tried to convince him he didn’t have to worry, that we have lost Liesmith. He did not seem to believe me.

One day, we set out on a two-day trek through Rosenlaui, which went around the beautiful falls of Reichenbach. We had just reached them and were admiring the wild beauty when a boy reached us with a message from our hotel about a military order that has just come back for me, requiring immediate return to base.

Well, you can imagine I was suspicious, sir, but I also knew disobedience in such matters was impossible, and it furthermore indicated that the order came from you. Under such circumstances, I could not very well refuse, but I asked – no, begged – Stark to return with me. He, however, was reluctant. You know of his difficult relationship with the army ever since the events of Afghanistan, and I felt he was being contrary out of sheer contrariness. And, it should be said, I truly did believe we had lost Liesmith.

So I left him there and set out towards the hotel, and I remember turning back at one point and seeing the silhouette of a man climbing the trail towards the falls. Upon arriving at the hotel, I of course found that the message had been fake, and when I hurriedly returned to the falls, I only discovered Stark’s backpack leaning against the rock.

When I was capable of closer examination, I also found two tracks of shoes leading towards the edge of the cliff, and none returning, and a section of mud disturbed as if two men had wrestled there. It was no difficult conclusion to make, but even had it been, I discovered a letter on the top of the backpack that put rest to any doubt I might have had.

My dear Rhodes, it said, I write these few lines through the courtesy of Mr. Liesmith, who awaits my convenience for the final discussion of those questions which lie between us. I am pleased to think that I shall be able to free society from any further effects of his presence, though I fear that it is at a cost which will give pain to my friends, and especially, my dear Rhodes, to you. I have already explained to you, however, that my career had in any case reached its crisis, and that no possible conclusion to it could be more congenial to me than this. Indeed, if I may make a full confession to you, I was quite convinced that the letter from our hotel was a hoax, and I allowed you to depart under the persuasion that some development of this sort would follow. Tell Inspector Patterson that the papers which he needs to convict the gang are in pigeonhole L., done up in a blue envelope and inscribed "Liesmith." I made every disposition of my property before leaving England, and handed it to Miss Potts. Pray give my greetings to her, and believe me to be, my dear fellow,

Very sincerely yours,

Anthony Stark

That, general, is all there is to say on the subject. You know all about how the investigation of Liesmith’s gang progressed, and you know, too, about the official investigation of Stark’s and Liesmith’s deaths, and that the bodies were never – could never be – recovered.

Memories are all I have left of my best friend now, and I would prefer to dwell on less grim ones in the future.

In your service, as always,

Colonel James Rhodes

-

_TO BE CONTINUED_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That detailed description of Loki’s looks Tony gives? Yeah, it was exactly that detailed in The Final Problem, only, of course, a bit less complimentary. Still.


	2. Square B3: Character: Rhodey

This whole thing had stunk like a week dead fish from the beginning, but the message from the hotel was the cherry on the top.

"Really?" I asked incredulously. "I'm supposed to fall for that?"

But Stark just looked at me kind of sadly and said: "Please, Rhodey, go."

And so I went all right, and then I stopped at the first convenient place and looked back.

And sure enough, there was a figure going up that hill, a figure that looked very much like Liesmith.

"Damn it," I muttered under my breath, and began to climb back up, convinced Stark had decided to take on Liesmith on his own out of that blasted self-sacrificing nature of his.

And then I reached the cliff with the falls, and there they were.

Stark had never been exactly… discerning about his partners and of course Liesmith was damn shameless with that green carnation he always wore, but still, I didn't expect to find what I did.

Namely, they were kissing.

And not just ‘peck on the lips’ kind of kissing, either. Liesmith had Stark pressed against the cliff face, and I had a much more detailed view of their tongues that I’d ever wanted to have.

I cleared my throat.

They sprang apart, and Liesmith immediately stepped in front of Stark, his hand reaching, no doubt, for a weapon.

Stark’s hand closed like a vice around his wrist, but the look he gave me was terrified. “Rhodey…” He muttered.

Unfortunately for him, I was in no mood to be compassionate at the moment. I was seething.

“So that was the plan, eh?” I asked. “Get rid of me to have a little assignation? Perhaps disappear for a week or two, pretend that the terrible murderer got you, only to come back afterwards and regard me with a tale of your daring escape? Just because you wanted to shag a criminal? Or, wait, was the story about Liesmith being a criminal even true, or was that all just to throw me off balance?”

“Rhodey, please,” Stark said, and he looked desperate, “it wasn’t like that.”

“We don’t have much time,” Lismith interrupted. “Someone might come. If you need to have this conversation, have it elsewhere.”

“You seemed to be perfectly at your leisure before I arrived,” I pointed out, and Liesmith shot me an absolutely poisonous look.

“He’s right,” Stark said reluctantly. “I will explain everything, I swear I will, Rhodey, but give us a moment.”

And then they both turned their backs to me and began to work on the soil and mud on the ground. It took me a moment to realize what they were doing, but when I did, my stomach fell to somewhere in the vicinity of my feet.

“This wasn’t meant to be just for a week or two, was it?” I asked with horror.

“No,” Stark said sadly as he arranged his backpack against the cliff face and then they both retreated towards me, taking care to avoid making any tracks.

There were obvious sets of two footsteps leading to the falls now, and then a bit of disturbed mud - as if in a wrestle - and...nothing.

“Let’s go,” Liesmits hissed, and we descended a little and hid in the nearest bit of forest.

“It was the only way,” Stark said as soon as we stopped. “I’m so sorry, Rhodey, but-”

“Why?” I asked, enraged. “Even if I pretend to understand your apparently irrepressible desire to shack up with a criminal - for more than one night, to boot! - you told me yourself that no one knew he was a criminal! You could have just stayed together in London!”

“It was you who said you have never heard him associated with any crime except for one,” Stark reminded me.

Liesmith nodded. “Everyone knows I’m a sodomite, deal Colonel, even though the law cannot prove it,” he said in a sort of wry, sardonic sort of way. “But if I wished for any kind of real relationship with Anthony - which I did, I do - there was no way to keep it secret from the press always after me.” He paused. “I know, I have made my bed, you would say.” He shrugged. “It is true enough, but still, that was how the situation stood and why we had to leave London and why this identity of mine had to meet an untimely end, to get rid of the reporters interested in me.”

“That’s still no reason to pretend Stark died with you!” I had to fight with myself not to shout at him, and remind myself that while hidden from any passer-by’s eyes, we could certainly still be heard if I wasn’t careful.

“There was a reason for that all right,” Star muttered and they exchanged a look with Liesmith. The man scowled, but nodded curtly, and Stark elaborated: “Loki, while head and brains of the London criminal organization, had others above him giving him requests, or rather demands, for specific crimes. He was not at liberty to refuse these, and he was even less at liberty to simply end his criminal career. And his skills were too well known to these people. If he disappeared, with me perhaps as the only witness of his fall, only for me to retreat from my career soon afterwards and move away from London...they would get very suspicious very quickly. This was the only way to convincingly get away from them.”

“And for me to become the convenient witness,” I said bitterly.

Stark grimaced. “I am sorry, I truly am, Rhodey. But I...well, I wanted to spend this last week with you before saying goodbye-”

“You never did,” I pointed out.

“In my mind, I did constantly, for the whole week,” he corrected. “But yes, it is true I also counted on your upright character to lend credence to our end, and I am sorry about that.”

I exhaled. “So, what is it with the powerful people behind him?” I asked then. “Am I supposed to believe Liesmith is just an innocent victim in all of this?”

The criminal smirked. “That rather depends on your point of view, I suppose,” he said. “As you have said, I have only ever been associated with the one crime in the mind of the public. That has been my predilection since my adolescence, and I learned, through a series of very painful lessons, to hide it to the best of my ability. At home, the indiscretions of my youth were still in memory, so I could never truly get away from my early mistakes. To that end, I moved to Oxford, and with more experience now, began to devote all of my not inconsiderable talents to remain undetected. However, there is no need of proof in such circumstances: rumour was enough to chase me out of my place of work, the fact that I seemed too effeminate, that I did not fit well enough with the other male faculty around me, enough to confirm the rumour and for the university to act.

“Now at that point, I changed tack in two ways. For one, I decided that as society will always associate my manner with inverts and as I was unwilling to change my behavior completely, I would go in the other direction and flaunt it. In my first few years in London, I fairly bombarded the police with false accusations towards myself, always careful to have a completely foolproof alibi. The natural result was that they began to take these accusations less seriously in time. I could be as flamboyant and effeminate as I wished, I could wear my green carnation, but when it came to an accusation, it always turned out I had been in company with several matronly schoolteachers or some such.

“It was amusing, but I also began to realize that this approach was building a particular set of capabilities in me - dealing with the police, constructing an alibi, misdirection - and it seemed a shame not to put these things to an even more profitable purpose. I caught the attention of said powerful people not long after that, and the rest, as they say, is history. So it is up to you, my dear Colonel, to decide whether I am the victim or the villain in this story.”

There was very little I could say to that, given that I had known Stark did not much care what gender his lovers were, and late at night after many glasses of whiskey, he had frequently complained of the injustices of the persecution of one aspect of his inclination. ‘The church insists both is a sin,’ he used to say, because he certainly did not marry the women he bedded, ‘so why is it you only go to gaol for one, huh?’

There was no good answer to give him, and there was no good answer to give Liesmith, so I gave Stark a helpless look, and he shrugged at me with a smile.

“I should have realized what was going on the moment you told me you considered him your intellectual equal,” I muttered. Then my eyes widened. “Was that how you got together?”

“Effectively, yes,” Stark confirmed. “It did not, naturally, happen the morning before we departed London, but somewhat earlier. But yes, his visit started exactly as I have described. But in his entreaties for me to drop the investigation, I detected the sincerity I mentioned to you. I suspected there was something more behind it, and at length he hinted at powerful people. I said I understood that he was not interested enough in my survival to sacrifice his whole career and run away, and he smirked and said ‘only if you ran away with me’. Well, you know how I am with flirting.”

I did. He had never met a flirt he would not return.

“So, the conversation was somewhat derailed from then on, and ended in a rather intimate embrace.”

“And more,” Liesmith added with a smirk, and Stark confirmed that with a grin.

“Fortunately it was rather more than a few days before I had everything ready for an arrest. At first Loki simply promised to come back to...try and persuade me, and he did, many times. It did not take me long to realize that I did not want to see him locked up, to say nothing of the chances the powerful people in question would have him eliminated the moment police arrested him, to make sure he did not try and speak against them. So one day, I asked him how serious he’d been about the running away part, and from there, we began to plan.”

“Did it occur to you he seduced you to save himself from prison?” I asked, exasperated.

He gave me a tired look even as Liesmith scowled at me. “It did, obviously. But the point is, Loki could have easily faked his own death and run away, at any point. He didn’t need my help with that. That he did so with me, helping me to dismantle his whole network...well, that said something else to me.”

“Perhaps he thought you would find him out if he faked his death without your cooperation.” I tried.

“I told you he was my intellectual equal. It would be enough for him to flee into a country he was familiar with and I wasn’t - and there’s plenty of those - and he would have been safe.”

I sighed. There was obviously no talking to him. I should have known from the start. For all that Stark frequently thought with things other than his brain, he would have never as much as considered leaving his career for someone he wasn’t completely serious about. “So what happens now?” I asked.

“Well, that rather depends on you, dear Colonel,” Liesmith said. “Will you report us to the authorities?”

I only rolled my eses at him for being absurd, and turned to Stark. “Well?”

“If we were to proceed according to the original plan,” he said carefully, “you would need to go back to the hotel, discover the summons had not been real-”

“Did you honestly think it was going to fool me?” I asked incredulously.

Liesmith gave Stark a look, and my friend said with a sigh: “Loki kept suggesting different ways of incapacitating you for a time, as further proof of his terrible criminal determination, you understand, but I categorically refused. This was, however, the only thing I could think of that would convince you to leave my side under the circumstances. I hoped Ross’ name would make it enough you’d be too afraid to ignore it.”

“I’m certain he’d like that,” I muttered.

“In any case, you would then presumably have returned to the falls, and found...well…”

“Yes, quite. And you imagine I will play this charade for you now?”

Stark winced. “Please, Rhodey,” he said. “I know I’m asking so, so much of you, but...all our plans hinge of getting away now, we cannot-”

“And it is somewhat time-sensitive too,” Liesmith added. “If you do not return to the hotel soon enough, it will not seem plausible you came in response to the note I sent.”

I scowled as I thought about it. “All right,” I said then, addressing myself exclusively to Stark. “I will go there now, but I will come back immediately - that much will be in character at least - and you will not move an inch from this place, do you understand me? I want to talk to you properly, know where you are going, say goodbye - I want time.”

“It might seem suspicious if you don’t go for the police soon enough after finding what you will at the Falls,” Liesmith protested.

I gave him the coldest look in my arsenal. “My best friend will have just died,” I said. “I assume it will be fully understood that I needed to take some time to myself.”

To my surprise, he actually looked shamefaced at this response of mine, and did not say another word.

I turned back to Stark, and repeated: “Do not move an inch from here. And while I am gone, consider this: I don’t know what your plans are, but I _am_ currently stationed outside of Britain. I am sure you could live in the Balkans just as comfortably as anywhere else you were planning, with your resources. And do not even dare to suggest that I will not see you again, because I will not accept that, Tony. I will not.”

With that, I turned on my heed and proceeded speedily towards the hotel.

In my mind, I was already preparing the letter to Ross.

-

_THE END_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry that this is another Bingo fic from me with period-typical homofobia, I swear it’s not my fault, it’s just that history sucks. But hey, at least this Loki turns the resulting bitterness and pain outwards!
> 
> Loki is basically Oscar Wilde here, only he’s an actual criminal in addition, so you won’t see him taken to court over it.


End file.
